


i can’t find a key without you

by staywithme_13



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: I dont know what im doing anymore, M/M, and no one is singing, but without the stalking thing, classic music au, i dont know why im posting, im embarassed, im mean it was my inspiration, its because the delipa challege, kinda phantom of the opera au, this whole thing is SO cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staywithme_13/pseuds/staywithme_13
Summary: Jean is a former violinist in the Orchestra of Maestro Moriyama. Now on his own for the first time in his career, he is trying to find his own chords by teaching a prodigy, Jeremy Knox.Jeremy always dreamed with the Philharmonic. He never dreamed he was going to find Jean.





	1. was solo singing on my own

**Author's Note:**

> i did not proofread any of this. I'm sorry for the murder of the english language. again, im from brazil and we speak portuguese and memes. mostly memes.  
> the title of the fic and the chapters are lyrics of the song 'symphony - clean bandit' because im that creative.
> 
> this is for a challenge from a facebook group called panelinha da limonada, (in portuguese, focused on m/m stories)(https://www.facebook.com/groups/1496203540645612/).
> 
> my theme was the disney music 'Beauty and the Beast' from the film with the same damn name.

It has hard for Jean to believe that his life wasn’t over after that fire.  
That incident was the proof that doesn’t matter how much he fights, he couldn't ever win. Even if he was free now, Riko would always win.  
“You should put a mask on”, Riko had told him after the fire, being dragged by two guards. “Your face is hideous.”  
“He is wrong, Jean” Renee whispered at his side later, in the hospital room. “You are just hurt and you will heal.”  
But some things couldn’t ever heal.  
.  
But now, Jean can play wherever, whenever he wanted. Which means all the time, in the living room of his new apartment. He loved this feeling when the only thing real in the world was the violin on his hands. When he was in the Orchestra, that wasn’t allowed. The Maestro couldn’t stand the creations of anyone else.  
For many years, Jean had asked himself if Riko noticed that The Maestro also despised him like he despised anyone, or if Riko actually believed he was the favorite because he was the most talented. Until the day that The Maestro finally accepted a symphony that wasn’t his composition. It was Kevin Day’s.  
Kevin has to be the most incredible pianist of the all times. Jean knew this since the first time he heard Kevin playing something of his own. It was effortless. Riko was good but methodical. He didn’t know how to innovate. Kevin’s music is a beautiful living this. Riko’s was something in a sheet music, chord by chord. It was incapable of touching someone’s soul.  
.  
Jean doesn’t know where he fits between his former colleagues. Neil is enrapturing aggressive, Kevin could move people hearts with few notes. Jean has yet to find his own voice.  
So he plays, even if the scars in his arms and his neck and his face hurt. Day and night, because music is the only thing he ever loved and even in his darker days he didn’t lose it.  
He could give up on anything else, but not this.  
.  
He could have lived his life forever like this if Renee Walker, for once, had minded only her damn business. ‘You are my friend and my business’ she would say. Jean called it bullshit.  
But now someone is ringing the doorbell and Jean knew with the same certainty that the sky was blue and violins are tuned in perfect fifths that this was her doing.  
“What?” Jean finally screamed, standing right by the door.  
“Oh, hello?” A voice answered, with a beautiful southwest american accent. What kind of trouble was Renee getting him into now? “Is this Jean Moreau's apartment? Miss Walker sent me here.”  
“Of course she did.” Jean hit his forehead in the door. “What for?”  
“I’m trying to get into the Philharmonic, sir, but I need a tutor. She told me you played.” Jean could hear the confusion in the voice of the stranger on his doorstep.  
“I play, but I don’t teach.” Jean almost felt bad. Obviously, Renee was trying to get him out of isolation by giving him a student, but he wasn’t interested. Still, Jean was trying to be good. To be better. “I have a friend that has a school. I can recommend you, but that is it. What’s your name?”  
“Jeremy Knox?” The young man was definitely clueless.  
But Jean wasn’t. And Miss Walker was absolutely going to pay for this.  
.  
The thing is, Jeremy is a prodigy. He came from the States to France with nothing but his dreams and now everybody knew his name. How he wasn’t yet in the Philharmonic, Jean didn’t understand.  
“They say I need to improve my technique” Jeremy spoke through the gap of the door that Jean agreed to open. “I can play by hearing alone, but I’m still learning to play by the sheet and with others. I mean, I like playing with them. It’s just…” Jean saw Jeremy mimic the maestro’s movements. “I get carried away sometimes. Miss Walked said you could help me?” It sounded like a question.  
Jean wants to play with him. He could never forget walking in the Champs-Élysées and hearing that melody. And seeing him.  
Jeremy’s music was joy in the purest form. And he as playing it to everybody to hear. It was like pulling out your heart and showing to every passing person in the street.  
But.  
Jean looked at his burned hand, knowing all his left side was in the same condition. He wasn’t like Neil, who showed the scars in his face like the proof of everything he had survived. Still, Jean wanted to try.  
“Come back tomorrow.” He heard himself speaking. “I’m no teacher, but I can help you.”  
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Jeremy laughed and Jean was assaulted by that sound.  
He wasn’t ready for that.  
.


	2. before (you) all I heard was silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im hating myself a little bit
> 
> jerejean plays a fictional variation of this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZK6-x9sdEYo  
> (its my 'i have to study otherwise i will fail in this test' music)

Teaching Jeremy was unsurprisingly easy. The only difficulty was that Jeremy has problems focusing. Well, and also the fact that Jean had asked the strangest thing ever.  
“I will teach you, but we are not going to be in the same room. Ever.” Jean had said through the gap of the door on that very first day.  
“And how that is going to work?”  
“You’ll stay in the living room. I’ll choose a sheet for us to work. I’ll play from the next room and we will have to harmonize by hearing alone.”  
Besides the completely natural mistrust of the method, it was working. And Jean was not ready for liking this so much.  
“You are going too fast, Jeremy” Jean warned in their sixth lesson. “You need to be patient.”  
Jeremy growled from the living room.  
“This is killing me!” He whined.  
Jean smiled fondly to that.   
“You are doing well. You just got carried by the music. It’s not a bad thing, but must not be misplaced. In an orchestra, you are part of something bigger and if everyone is not in tune with each other, it will fall apart. You should spend more time playing with other people, with different instruments. You need to learn how to harmonize with all the instruments. I can speak with Kevin, he will be more than glad to teach you.” Jean put his sheets in order, not bothered by the silence that followed.  
Until, a whisper came from the living room, so low that Jean almost missed.  
“I prefer playing with you.” Jean froze in place. “I wish I could really play with you.”  
He looked his burned hand.  
“Did you heard about the fire in the Amphitheatre?” Jean spoke without thinking. “I was there.”  
“Oh.”  
“Renee said I would heal. She was wrong.”  
“Are you in pain?”  
Yes. No. Jean didn’t think so.  
“I’m better now.” It was true enough. “Anyway, the scars are… unpleasant. I’m happier when I don’t remember what I look like now.”  
Jean tried not to overthink the silence this time. He didn’t ever know why he had told Jeremy this. It was the kind of thing he only talks about with Renee, and, if he was drunk, with Kevin and Neil.  
“Jean?” When Jeremy called his name, Jean tried to calm his beating heart. “Can I come in?”  
“Why?”  
“Did you know? When I moved here, I didn’t play the violin. I mean, I knew how to play, I loved both, but I preferred the cello back then.” Jean heard steps, but it stopped in the doorstep of his bedroom. The door was open. Jean didn’t know if he wanted to close it. “But I went to the Amphitheatre one night and I get lost and you were there. You were playing and the whole word went silent to hear you.”  
Jean remembered the stolen moments in the back room.  
“You’re exaggerating. It was just the effect of the location.”  
“No, it wasn’t. I remember the music. It was Bach, but a little different. It was… sadder. So much…”  
“Tragedy?” Jean almost laughed.  
“I was going to say love. You play like someone in love. Desperately sad.”  
“Jokes on you. I’ve never been in love.”  
“That day I went home and I tried to play that same piece. It’s because of that day that I started playing the violin again.” Jeremy paused, but after a brief moment of uncertain, he spoke again. “I lied to you. I already am in the Philharmonic.”  
Jean actually laughed this time. “Knew it.”  
“But they really wanted me to practice my technique more, so, it wasn’t a big lie. I just… thought that you wouldn't accept me if you knew.”  
“But then why you came? You should be practicing with the others.”  
“It’s because I want to play Bach with you. I want to see you playing it again.”  
“And then you will leave?”  
More silence, until Jeremy whispered.  
“If you want.”  
Jean went to the door but didn’t stop. Instead, he stopped in the center of the living room, his violin so heavy and yet so light in his hands. Then he looked at Jeremy, with all that freckles and those warm eyes. And Jeremy was looking straight back at him. His lips were firmly pressed when contemplating Jean’s destroyed skin, but he smiled brightly when their eyes met.  
“Renee told me what really happened, you know,” Jeremy told him, stepping closer. “She didn’t just send me here. I was tested. She loves you very much.”  
“She is the best sister I could have asked for.” Jean averted Jeremy’s eyes. “Are we playing or not?”  
“Where are the sheet?”  
“Just follow my lead.” A crack of a smile adorned Jean’s face.  
And they played and for the first time, Jean could hear the sound of his own music.  
He could stop looking at Jeremy and didn’t know what to do with the fact that he was looking back.  
And they played.  
.  
“You want me to go?” Jeremy asked, hours later. Jean’s fingers were throbbing.  
“I never wanted.”  
Jeremy beamed like the sun. “What do you want then?”  
Jean smiled back, a little unsure of the answer but not about the feeling.  
“Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... reviews?  
> i dont even know. im going to sleep for a week

**Author's Note:**

> i dont even know what to tell you buddy.  
> i mean, im sorry.


End file.
